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Cara Clark (warandbeauty) wrote in paxletalelogs,

The box felt heavy in her arms, even though she had just picked it up and it only contained flowers. It had been a long day for her -- Sundays were, apparently, the day most folks stopped in for last-minute flower arrangements and bouquets. Most of the flowers had been for the elderly, too sick or old to leave the house or to go to Church with their families. It was sad, she thought, that most saw their families only once a week, and that those people thought that flowers would make up for their absence.

For the first time, she almost felt guilty about leaving New York. But, then, shortly after four, her mother had called, and Cara's guilt was extracted rather painfully as the older woman prattled on about the cook trying to poison her with undercooked food. By the end of the conversation, she was siding with the cook.

Her thoughts were still on her mother and how the woman had the ability to simply infuriate her. When she saw the grease monkey in the parking lot, she almost stepped right past her without so much as a hello -- but, then, she thought better of it.

And a big part of that was because it was something her mother would do.

So, placing the box on her hip, she looked down at the young woman with a beautifully-crafted smile. "Hi, there. Do you need some help?"